Liberation
by Jack Mirembe
Summary: If the truth keeps you chained to something horrible, maybe a lie is the key to a better reality. A darker glimpse into Beast Boy's past. Requested by Victory4Zim


"_Beast Boy's time spent stealing for those two criminals when he was a kid...If he did something that they saw as 'bad' he was beaten (tortured, really) senseless...they treated him like an animal, forced him to wear a collar and when he wasn't being tortured or stealing, he was locked in a cramped cage!" - Victory4Zim_

_: / The poor guy doesn't get a break. I don't like to dwell too much on this part of Beast Boy's life. A tiny kid being exploited and tortured...this was hard. I was going to try and go from his viewpoint as it happened but I couldn't manage it right now. So instead we get the aftermath._

_**WARNING: This story is not happy. It deals with a serious topic.**_

_I don't own the Titans.- Jack_

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Beast Boy is a free spirit. He doesn't know the meaning of the word restraint. He can't be tamed. No one can control him. He is wild and has always been. You might be able to go as far to say he is freedom personified.

There isn't a chain in existence that can bind him now. The weight of the ancient links is nothing to him. He's far too strong now. No matter how durable the chain, he is a thousand times more stubborn. He takes a huge amount of pride in ripping iron restraints to pieces. Listening to the destroyed metal clatter to the ground is enough to make him shiver.

The simple click of a lock sliding into place doesn't mean anything to him. He is brave, a hero. No hero would ever be so childish to panic at the sound of rusty tumblers falling into place. It's just another sound. A simple sound with absolutely no associations. No memories, no nightmares.

He has never met a cage strong enough to hold him. He doesn't know how it feels to be shoved away in the dark. The way a prison's bars can grow closer and closer until it grows hard to breathe. Or how long it takes before rough metal wears smooth underneath terrified hands.

You might think that weeks of wringing unpolished iron would leave scars. But the blisters and cuts would probably heal away to almost nothing. Just tiny hairline stripes across palms that you'd never see unless you knew to look. Not that Beast Boy would know.

But shackles could possibly leave reminders behind. Not little pinpricks or calluses but shining bracelets traced numerous times around slender wrists. It takes more time and craftsmanship to create a strong pair of handcuffs. All that effort would definitely show. Finely honed edges cutting effortlessly into tender skin. Expertly forged chains holding strong against any attempt to escape, every desperate tug. Cold metal that remained unchanged against tears and cries.

Beast Boy has a great appreciation for handcuffs. Even though he can't and refuses to be restrained by something so simple. He'll die fighting before anyone ever sets a pair of steel bracelets on his hands.

It's unprofessional for a hero to be handcuffed. That's the only reason. Just a simple matter of professionalism and nothing more.

Beast Boy isn't afraid of anyone. He doesn't know how it feels to be terrified for his life. How your throat will close up until it hurts to swallow. Your heartbeat growing louder and louder in your ears until it drowns out everything else. After that, there's no way to tell if anyone is screaming. And if somebody was, there wouldn't be any way to tell who was crying out. The way panic can seem to freeze you in time until everything grows slow around you. And there isn't anything you can do. You just have stay there and survive.

Then the adrenaline will fade away. The world will speed up again. But no matter how long it's been, you seem to stay in those freeze frame moments. Every little detail shining perfectly in a horrifying clarity that would never fade away.

Maybe there would be other things that never faded. Jagged cuts left behind by broken bottles. Welts trailing up, down, and across an aching body. A vague sort of hunger that never leaves, even years after starvation is nothing more than a memory.

He doesn't know anything about any of that though. But maybe if he really tried, he could possibly imagine the nightmares that might sometimes happen.

Dreaming of being locked up and left in the dark. Of never being able to stand up because the cage was just too small. Cradling torn hands after hours of tearing at unyielding walls. Never ending night so full of silence and cold that he'd forget what his own voice sounded like. Merciless and unavoidable torture. Struggling to remember why he needed to keep living and if it was really worth it. Starting believe that things like sunlight, grass, and laughter had never existed. Completely forgetting how it felt to be not be hungry. Slowly losing his grip on what made him a person. And maybe worst of all, coming to believe that he deserved it all.

Those nightmares would probably be ghastly. The kind that would be impossible to sleep in the aftermath. Horrors that anyone would want to talk about. Dreams appalling enough that would need to be talked about.

But Beast Boy doesn't have those dreams. He doesn't know what it feels like to lie awake at night, dreading his own thoughts less than the repulsed reactions mentioning them would cause. He'd much rather bite down on his pillow and hide beneath his blankets than confess something like that.

Who would want a hero who wasn't able to protect themselves? What team would want a partner who couldn't save themselves? A fearful little boy who balks at memories has no place in a world of champions and legends.

So it's a great thing that Beast Boy isn't that scared child.

He'll admit he has scars. He has a dangerous job. Sometimes he ends up getting hurt. And if some of those scars are from before the Titans, before the Doom Patrol? As far as he is concerned, when and how they came about doesn't really matter. His friends probably wouldn't agree, but he never lets them ask to find out.

Sometimes he has nightmares. But so does everybody. He isn't different because of that. He might have them more regularly than some people. They could be worse than most peoples' bad dreams. He can't read minds though. Not to mention it's a little bit rude to go around trying to find out who has the most traumatizing dreams.

Beast Boy is the definition of a free spirit. He claims he doesn't know the meaning of the word restraint. He can't be tamed. He makes sure that no one can control him. He is wild by choice and that has always been his decision.

He is freedom personified. And it's completely on purpose.


End file.
